


Don't Know, Don't Care. All I Know Is You Can Take Me There.

by ohfrecklefreckle



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Kink, M/M, Peterick, Themes of BDSM, Wentzorta, almost SSC, definitely the safe and consensual, hints of - Freeform, the sane may walk the line but not in a triggery way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19731964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfrecklefreckle/pseuds/ohfrecklefreckle
Summary: ~All he did know was the the sly smile on Gabe's face was worrying, almost intimidating. Every syllable had tangible intent about it and not knowing what was coming next was right on the cusp of erotic and chilling. The hot lust of the room had cooled. It was his own fault, he just couldn't play nicely long enough to finish the games he started. Pete knew that was the story of his life. ~Explicit smut with bad language. This is a kink themed fic with BDSM themes. Not strict D/S, more just bondage and some mild psych!kink play. It features restraints but isn't really that heavy.Old school disclaimer: M/M RPF - you have been warned! If you don't like RPF then please don't read it. Definitely has elements of angst but please enjoy anyway!





	Don't Know, Don't Care. All I Know Is You Can Take Me There.

**Author's Note:**

> Playing with Pete and Gabe has made my head and heart happy. I hope folks enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it ;)

The journey in the car was in near silence. Pete gazed out of the window every now and again but mainly stared down at his hands, trying his best to suppress the tremble that started every time he lifted them from his thighs or untangled them from one another. The miles passing under the wheels felt as if they were passing at lightning speed, the tail lights from the other cars forming light trails in his eyes. Nothing felt real, like some kind of reality shift had taken him not only out of his body but out of the world he knew.

Over an hour later and he looked up only when he felt the car coming to a halt, gravel crunching under the tyres. He unclipped his seatbelt but didn't get out, turning to look at Gabe who was playing on his phone. There was an unspoken tension between them and Pete loved it and hated it at the same time. He had grown used to the way Gabe switched completely when they were playing but he knew the night ahead was going to push him further than ever before and it knotted his guts to try and visualise some of it in his head.

“They're ready for us Pete. You ready?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Go-time Gabe was not the laugh a minute joker that existed most of the time but Pete knew the uncertainty in his voice would be a red flag. It wasn't that he didn't want to go inside, he just didn't really know what to expect. A hand appeared on his thigh and he looked straight into Gabe's eyes, seeing the enduring kindness there that might just be enough to make his legs work for long enough to get him out of the car.

“We don't have to. This is all for you Petey. If you don't want this any more just say. We go home and it's fine, I promise, it's fine.”

Pete shook his head. He wasn't ready to go home, not yet anyway.

“No, I'm cool with it. Like, I _will_ be. Just get me in there.”

He covered Gabe's hand with his and squeezed lightly before reaching for the handle of the door and starting to get out. His legs felt wobbly underneath him but were holding him up so far. Reaching behind the seat Pete grabbed his backpack and shrugged it on, pulling the hood of his hoodie round his face and then down so that it sat almost below his eyes.

Gabe got out and strode away in front of him towards a short flight of stairs that led down to a door with a shattered, flickering amber light above it. Moving as fast as he his legs would allow Pete managed to catch up just as Gabe got to the door. Apparently there was no need to knock and they went straight in, a tall, intimidating doorman merely nodding as they walked past. He was grateful that at least one of them knew where they were going as the maze of dark corridors lined with red doors quilted in worn velveteen started to take his already hazy sense of reality even further from his grasp.

At the end of the last row of rooms was a figure dressed all in black, much like Gabe was. Pete held back while a conversation took place between the man and Gabe but then followed into the room immediately on their right when the door swung open. Once inside he stared back at the door, watching it being pulled shut behind them and hearing the lock slide across. It gave him a shiver and a warm rush all at the same time; the knowledge that the 'getting in unnoticed' part of the evening had gone to plan was the warmth but that the fact that he was locked in a play room full of equipment and about to put himself at Gabe's potentially limited mercy sent chills down his spine.

“There's a bathroom behind that purple door. Go get ready.”

Pete, knowing when to follow orders and when to speak, nodded and then headed into the tiny bathroom and shut the door behind him, catching sight of his face in the small mirror above the sink. For the first time all night he cracked a smile, partly wondering how the hell he'd ended up in a dark, sleazy play room on the other side of the state. In truth it had been his idea and Gabe had taken some persuading to set the night up but despite all of that the reality was already way more intense than he expected.

He carried out his usual pre-play routine, making sure he was as clean and presentable above and below the waist as he could be. Tugging open his rucksack Pete pulled out the plain white t-shirt he had chosen especially and the chisel tipped sharpie that was rolled up into it. He held the t-shirt up against the cleanest looking wall, bit the cap off the marker and held it between his teeth and started writing. One of the only distractions on the way to the club was deciding what to write. If he was going to find what he wanted within the walls of the room outside then he had to be honest. Painfully and brutally honest. The way he had been begging for Gabe to treat him would bring that honesty to the fore, or so he hoped.

In his trademark graffiti style hand he wrote five words only, punctuating them with a thick line underneath.

YOUR LOVE CAN'T SAVE ME

Pleased with his handiwork, Pete slipped off his hoodie and rammed it into the bag, pulling the t-shirt on over his head and adjusting it slightly so it sat just above the waistband of his jeans, exposing the button that he popped open to give the green light to whatever Gabe wanted to do to what was within them. The tingle in his groin was ever increasing no matter how he tried to calm it and he knew that walking back out to Gabe with his jeans trying to tear away from his hips would be a difficult start to the evening. He thought of his high school math teacher, the old man down the street when he was a kid who yelled at him every day for four years straight for walking across his yard and the feeling of failure he got every time he wanted to talk to Patrick about how he felt but chickened out at the last minute. That just about did the trick and the bubbling excitement quelled briefly.

One more delve into the bag and he searched out the quart of vodka hidden in the bottom. Pete unscrewed the lid and put the bottle to his lips, chugging from it as if it were plain water. He didn't need it but he wanted it, something to dull the thrill, blur the edges just that little bit more. If he could take more he could give more and get more. He had gone past caring if Gabe smelled it on him but the handful of Skittles he shoved into his mouth afterwards would mask any trace. He knew, he'd done it before.

Ramming everything back into his bag he put it on the floor beside the sneakers he had kicked off and took one last glimpse at himself in the mirror. His eyes were dark with smudged eyeliner, his lips plumped up from sealing around the bottle and both his tongue and breath sweet from the Skittles. The vodka fuelled his growing bravado and for a rare moment Pete felt capable of anything.

***

When he stepped back into the main room Gabe was perched on the edge of a couch in the corner, hands on his knees and feet tapping against the wooden floor. As soon as Pete closed the door behind him he moved over to where Gabe was and stood with his head bowed. His palms grew damp the minute his eyes clocked the tight leather trousers that Gabe had changed into and if it had been another time or place he would have dropped to his knees and torn them open in a heartbeat. The never-ending thighs would have warmed the leather up nicely and Pete imagined rubbing his face against it, nuzzling slowly higher until he could mouth, maybe even bite, at Gabe through the thick fabric. Again he had to resort to mental images of All-State 1977 math whizz Mrs Hanrahan but she had saved him from his own desire many, many times before.

“Middle of the room, let me see if I got this right.”

Obediently Pete moved to the middle as instructed, aware of the shadow that was casting on the light oak in front of his feet.

“Arms.”

Initially Pete put his arms out in front of him, the inside of his wrists turned up in his first proper gesture of self-subordination.

“Up.”

Realising his error Pete put his arms vertically above his head, fingers hitting whatever was dangling above him. The shadow on the floor started to swing and he was aware of Gabe's body moving closer to his. He could smell the deep spice of the cologne Gabe loved, smelling at it as quietly and discreetly as he could. It reminded him of so many good times, and maybe a few not so good times, but it was grounding him in what was becoming an ever more surreal moment. He felt something sliding around his wrists and his fingers found the cold steel of chains to wrap around. The click of a lock closing was an unmistakable sound.

“I was right. Short guy, long arms. Curse of the bass player, huh? Comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

The first tut of the evening already. Pete gulped hard.

“Again.”

“Yes Gabe.”

“Better.”

The close warmth was gone as Gabe stepped just far enough away from him to take it with him, reaching with one of his long fingers and tipping Pete's chin upwards so they made eye contact.

“Usual rules. Tap out at any time. This is for you, not me.”

He didn't expect the kiss so soon but Gabe leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was so tender that it stole the breath from his body and he wanted to kiss back but knew he couldn't. They didn't share many of those when playing. They didn't share many of them at all, such was the animal nature of how they hungered for each other. Gabe exuded the same level of easy sexuality that Pete did and he had been drawn to Gabe like a game moth to a fierce flame from the first time they met. That had ended in a third base make out session that gave Pete a memory he ran to whenever he struggled to get off. Gabe's tongue was insistent, perfectly pointed and long enough to get almost anywhere. He thought of it fondly in many motel showers when his soapy fist wasn't quite enough. It had been the first tongue to go where he'd refused everybody else entry and the blush that burned into his cheeks that night burned itself into his memory bank too. The combination of that tongue and long fingers working him over in unison as he bent spread legged over the side of a dressing room couch was better than anything else he had to draw on.

“So, settle yourself and we'll get going.”

Pete turned his wrists inwards as far as the leather would allow and gripped onto the chains that were warming under the heat of his hands. He planted his feet on the wood, the slight draught across his toes not unpleasant. Nodding his confirmation, Gabe grinned back at him.

“You pull hard on those restraints. See if you can get them down.”

Pete let his body go slack, dropping his body weight down as far as it would go, the gentle clink of the chain against the loops in the ceiling the only sound other than his breathing. He tugged hard at the chain with his hands and even used the leverage it gave him to lift his feet off the ground to see if it could take his weight. It did and comfortably so. The sense of having no escape and yet total freedom left the dilemma of such an arousing conflict rolling around in his head.

“So we've established you're going nowhere fast. You're all mine until I'm done. I could leave you there all night if I wanted to. I can do anything. I. Like.”

Gabe turned away from him and Pete took the chance to look him properly up and down, the way the trousers clung to the slender hips igniting yet another of the burners in his groin. The thin black wife-beater that hung from the strong shoulders let the olive skin of Gabe's arms come to life under the dim light of the room. Pete knew the deceptive speed and strength of those arms and hoped that he might have another brush with their worst work before the night was over.

“Shall we deal with your t-shirt first? I mean, c'mon Pete. You don't want me to love you, you've never wanted that. You didn't come to me for love and you sure as fuck don't come back time and time again for love.”

All the time he spoke Gabe stayed staring at the wall.

“Unless you want me to love you Pete but it's not my love you want. My love can't save you but my mouth can. My hands can. The way I fuck you through the bed and you call my name at the end like it's the last thing you'll ever say? That sure as hell can.”

Turning sharply on the heel of his heavy black boots Gabe's face came into view under one of the spotlights above his head. The expression it wore was as dark as the tone of his voice and Pete struggled to stay as silent as he knew he had to. The light caught the silver chain around Gabe's neck and he saw a pair of keys hanging from it. What he didn't expect was to see the chain being removed so early in the play and his brow furrowed. He hadn't done anything wrong so why would be be getting let down again so soon?

Pete needn't have worried. As Gabe approached he took one of the keys in his hand and grabbed a handful of Pete's t-shirt with the other, digging the keys hard through the fabric and piercing it at the first attempt down near the hem. He dragged a hole in it big enough to get the fingers of both his hands through it and pulled, every fibre of the soft cotton yielding slowly to the show of force.

“You don't want to be loved Pete. Not by me anyway. You need so much more than that. So much more. So much pain. That's what you come to me for.”

The t-shirt was soon in half from the neckline to the hem, hanging like a cheap waistcoat. Pete's writing across the front of it was shredded as much as the sentiment. Gabe was right, he didn't want love, or at least not from Gabe. There was no point trying to be saved by the wrong person at the wrong time. Using the keys again Gabe made other nicks in the fabric and tore hard, getting through the thicker stitching at the neckline and sleeves with an ease that should have scared Pete more than it actually excited him. The protection and warmth of the t-shirt gone, Pete felt deliciously vulnerable. All that was left between him and the harsh hands was the pair of skintight denim jeans which only served to highlight the growing bulge in the front of them.

“Shall we stop pretending any of this is about me, Pete?”

“No, Gabe.”

The cold laugh that followed his answer caught him off guard. He watched as Gabe opened out the t-shirt that was in tatters in his hands before pulling it into a long strip.

“Don't fucking lie to me Pete. We're not here for that. I'll let you down if you lie again, understood.”

With a nod he uttered a more broken sounding “Yes Gabe.” He hated being found out. Pete's time and energy went on choreographing his entire existence to keep the people away from who he really was. Gabe had dismantled that from day one and he hated it. It stung and burned and ached inside that he couldn't pretend anymore. He was transparent to Gabe. He was needy and emotional and broken and precious.

Pete knew from the way Gabe held him and mantled round him like a bird protecting its young that he meant way more to Gabe than either of them could admit in words. It made him hungry for warmth and physical contact but only of a certain kind. Besides, if he got too close then Gabe would only leave him anyway. Everybody left, nothing ever lasted so why would someone who treated him so well choose to stick around when the wheels of his life were grinding to a halt just before they would eventually and inevitably fall off?

The next thing Pete saw was the fabric of his ruined t-shirt meeting the bridge of his nose. The makeshift blindfold was effective and the loss of his sight in addition to not being able to use his arms upped the ante. Gabe was behind him, taking his time about tying the knot whilst rubbing up against him. The feel of the leather and flash of cold from the steel belt buckle against his skin made him push back hard instinctively. He had expected to be admonished but instead he felt warm hands trace their way up to his wrists before sliding back down, fingertips only, at an excruciatingly slow pace. Still he ground himself backwards, silently pleading to be taken then and there.

The fingers didn't stop at his shoulders. They carried on, grazing the soft skin where his armpits met his back and then down his sides, settling at his hips. He felt Gabe's breath against the back of his neck and when the tongue appeared and licked a warm strip up the nape of it before slipping across to the sensitive spot behind his ear, Pete couldn't hold his silence any more.

“Please Gabe, please.”

Pete didn't get a verbal answer but the teeth that sunk into his shoulder were answer enough. He rolled his hips hard desperate for the friction of his jeans rubbing against his cock and the feel of Gabe who was already rock hard behind him. The slender arms moved to encircle him, the hands meeting at his navel and sliding upwards until each of his nipples was between the pads of Gabe's fingers and being squeezed hard. The flicker of pain set off fireworks in his brain, the vision of how they must look together coming and going in between the explosions when his tormented nerve endings forced the images from his mind.

“Mi dulce tentacion...”

The whispered words came with a low growl that went straight to his groin. Pete knew what they meant; they formed the first Spanish phrase he'd heard from Gabe when they decided to start fooling around together and he felt his entire body tense at the mere thought of daring to remember that night. At that time Gabe had a long term girlfriend and it wasn't until Pete had wrapped his lips around the head of Gabe's cock and led him off the straight and narrow that he had received such high praise. Back then all he wanted to do was please. That's how Pete understood sex and his role in it. He was a service provider until Gabe taught him otherwise.

The burning feeling in his hardened nipples was almost too much for Pete but as ever Gabe seemed able to read his mind and let them go suddenly, the stinging and swelling turning into an addictively arousing sensation. His jeans were being unzipped and pushed down before he realised what was happening and he only moved forward far enough to let them pass over his hips before they were left bunched at his ankles. He kicked them off and away without being instructed to but was willing to take the chance, spreading his feet again and pressing back with a deliberate curve in the base of his spine.

“Oh, you're ready. You're needy too but I didn't bring you here to make it easy Pete. Not at all. You want to get off then you gotta work for it.”

He rolled his hips forward as soon as Gabe moved from behind him, waiting impatiently to see what was coming next. If it was some serious spanking then he could live with that. A firm hand on his ass was never a bad thing and if it left a few marks to stir his memory tomorrow then he was fine with that too. All he wanted was more. More of anything that felt good.

It was when one finger appeared at the very base of the underside of his cock that he knew he had misread Gabe letting him be sluttier than usual. Pete had assumed that the next thing he would feel was a sharp slap or the cold slick of lube but no, it was anything but. The upwards teasing of his most sensitive skin was like torture. There was nothing and nobody to writhe against, no friction and no other sensation to concentrate on. The single digit traced all the way back down and then up again, slipping briefly in the pre-cum that he was sure was about to start dripping onto the floor. Up and down twice more, taking more and more time on each pass.

“You don't like it this slow, huh?”

Pete shook his head, concentrating hard on the finger that was on another downward journey. It felt like his entire body was getting an electric shock, so sensitive had he become. He ached with need, barely able to keep his hips still.

“What do you want Pete?”

“More Gabe. Please, I need more.”

“I bet you fucking do. How about this for more?”

More fingertips appeared, three on each side of his shaft but they did exactly the same movement at the same speed as the single one had before. When they all met around the sensitive rim of the head of his cock Pete couldn't help but gasp a sharp intake of breath. He wanted Gabe's mouth or fist or even the pressed together leather clad thighs to grind against. He wanted to be fucked to an incredible orgasm, to be jerked off and bitten – anything more than the slow paced torture that made his body and mind thrum with electric lust.

“Not enough, huh? How about you help me out here.”

At the end of the upstroke he felt fingers rubbing softly at the slit at the tip of his cock, urging it to leak faster. A light squeeze made it give up even more than it already was and when the tainted fingers appeared on his lips he sucked them in gladly, grateful for anything extra, anything more. Pete ran his tongue across the flat pads, showing off how he would be treating Gabe's cock if only he could get it in his mouth.

“Better. Much better.”

It didn't take long for Gabe to replace the fingers with his mouth and Pete let himself be kissed hard and deep, his hands clinging to the chains and his elbows burning as he tried to use the leverage to press forward against the stilled touch of Gabe's other hand. He couldn't get anything more; as he leaned forward Gabe leaned away, using his considerable height advantage to keep taking what he wanted and giving nothing more in return. Unable to control his growing petulance Pete snarled into the kiss, knowing he would ultimately pay for it but find it impossible to hold it back. Gabe stopped everything immediately, moving only to grab at the makeshift blindfold and pull it from Pete's face.

“You taste sweet today but _no soy yo a quien amas_ , Pete. _Yo se quien quieres_.”

Pete tried his best to bring to mind more of the high school Spanish that he had learned a lifetime ago and the bits he had picked up from Gabe but he didn't know what it meant. All he did know was the the sly smile on Gabe's face was worrying, almost intimidating. Every syllable had tangible intent about it and not knowing what was coming next was right on the cusp of erotic and chilling. The hot lust of the room had cooled. It was his own fault, he just couldn't play nicely long enough to finish the games he started. Pete knew that was the story of his life.

He kept his eyes fixed forward but Gabe suddenly disappeared from view.

“Look at me.”

Casting his eyes down he felt the nausea of pure want in his guts. Gabe was on his knees, the silver chain around his neck catching the light as he toyed with it.

“I could let you down but what would it achieve Pete? What would it achieve. Nothing. Here's what we're going to do instead. You get to stay up there, I get to keep you locked up, we both win. I'm going to win a little more than you though, you get why that has to be.”

“Yes Gabe.”

“Good. Now, I want you to keep looking at me but you don't see me. I know you don't see me and that's cool. I know who's in there. Whose mouth you see when you're in my throat, whose hands you want on your body when I fuck you. I don't blame you. He's pretty. Really, _really_ pretty.”

He watched in near-horror as Gabe leaned forward and licked a warm swipe from the base to the head of his cock. It was the more that he had been craving and felt so good but it wasn't what he'd come for. Pete wanted pain, denial and denigration. He wanted to forget who he was and get lost in Gabe's capable hands and visceral need to be in charge, to take control. Everything was easier that way. Breaking under Gabe was easy, the way he got hard at the mere suggestion of them fucking told him that, but it was the putting back together that he hoped would be done by someone else.

“He'd get on his knees for you. You know that. You'd be his first Pete. Oh he'd love to be your first but he's a little late to that party, right? One word and he'd be on his knees, mouth open, ready to taste you.”

Again, Gabe's mouth met his shaft but closer to the head of his cock, taking it in and letting it out again with a sloppy popping sound. He did it again and again, one sharp hollowing of his cheeks before pulling away.

“He'd be so keen Pete, so excited to taste you. Can you imagine it? You can, I know. You've imagined it a thousand times since you met him. The way you look at him – I bet he knows. He's just waiting for the chance, waiting for you to ask him. I bet it's you he thinks about every time he jerks off.”

“Gabe, please...”

“He wouldn't know how to hide his teeth yet though Pete, you gotta teach the kid how to do it. You could show him. You're good, he'll learn quick.”

The hot mouth sunk down over him and Pete felt seconds from his entire body convulsing into cramp. The tension of imagining, letting his brain go somewhere forbidden was too much. The way Gabe's teeth barely scraped at his shaft, the way hands appeared on his ass and pulled him close when he tried to roll his hips away. Gabe had a mouth that could turn anybody, Pete knew that. He tried not to enjoy it, to empty his mind and concentrate on teachers, taxes, timetables – anything. It was no good. He looked down at the shock of messy black hair and it transformed before his eyes.

A mess of long, shiny golden strawberry blonde hair held back off his face by a thick rimmed pair of glasses, the grey baker boy cap sliding off the back of his head as he awkwardly moved backwards and forwards. The merest hint of scruffy sideburns visible as the angular jaw accommodated him.

Patrick. _It was Patrick_.

There was no smooth rhythm, no professional standard mouth. It was amateur and rough around the edges but endearing, the way Patrick held him steady was anything but, fingers trembling where they looped around the base of his cock. Every couple of passes there would be the sting of teeth as they caught his flesh, not sharp or painful, just a reminder of how Patrick was learning at his feet.

_That's it, just slowly... keep going Patrick, oh god... fuck, you learn quick_

_I dreamed about this, about you... please... don't stop..._

_It's so good... so close... Patrick..._

Pete's knees buckled as he came, the sharp jangle of the chain close to breaking the spell he had somehow fallen under. Rocking onto his tiptoes he let his boneless body dangle as the last of the spasms washed over him, groaning loudly as the warm mouth coaxed him to release the very last drop. Every sinew of his body felt tested, as if he had run a marathon in more than just his head. He couldn't remember if he had ever come with that kind of intensity before but he wanted to again, every single time.

A flood of emotion coursed through his veins and he felt awash with a contentment and a peace that he had never experienced before. If he died in that very moment it would have been enough, Pete was sure of it. All he wanted, all he needed was at his feet.

***

Pete's eyes peeled open slowly and Gabe's familiar smell flooded his senses. Gone were the restraints and he realised that he was laid in a surprisingly comfortable bed, surrounded by soft cotton sheets and a thick blanket. His face was pressed close to Gabe's bare chest and he rubbed his cheek on the inviting skin, seeking the comfort of the protective closeness. The arm wrapped around his shoulders shifted to the small of his back and pulled him closer.

“So you're still alive after that? I didn't finish you off, well, not _totally off_ _._ You were kinda digging it though.”

“Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?”

“Not too long, an hour, maybe two. I wasn't counting.”

Shuffling himself up towards the pillows Pete felt the strain in his arms and some of the muscle memories of being suspended started to come back.

“This is not a good move for someone who plays guitar for a living, huh?”

“You're only in the band for your looks Petey, leave worrying about the music to the big boys.”

The warm and funny tone to Gabe's voice had returned and Pete was grateful for the feeling of familiarity. He was in bed with his friend again, not just the guy that wanted to tie him up and drive him borderline insane. The way their bodies fitted together with ease despite their height difference was one of Pete's favourite things about them and the hand that moved to cup the shallow curve of his ass spread a feeling across his skin that helped with the usual come down.

“When do we have to be out of here?”

“A long time yet. I'd guess it's barely 3am. I got a hotel booked nearby though so whenever you're good we'll get out of here and I'll have somewhere nicer to take care of you.”

For someone so adept at cruelty Gabe was also one of the kindest people Pete had ever met. Sometimes he crashed hard after they had been playing but he never felt vulnerable. There was always just what he needed waiting for him, usually in the form of open arms and as much time as it took for him to level out again. It was the way he had learned to trust someone with his darkest desires and fears, the way that he had been able to open up and push himself into the worst parts of his psyche. Being pushed and probed by Gabe was better for him than any therapy session had been. No amount of 'tell me how that made you feel' could compare with being repeatedly edged just short of orgasm whilst talking about the demons in his head. If anything could lower Pete's barriers long enough and far enough to let the truth come cascading out it was the way Gabe's hands and mouth made him feel.

“Maybe we should get going then.”

After a chaste-by-Pete's-standards kiss, Pete moved as if to get out of the bed but Gabe's rangy arms held him back.

“You have to tell him Pete. Man, it's crushing you both.”

The tidal wave of emotion that came with talking about Patrick wasn't one that he could deal with yet, as determined as Pete was to make the warm and fuzzy feeling in his soul last as long as possible. Pressing one more small kiss to Gabe's lips he half smiled and pulled firmly away.

“Not right now Gabe. Tomorrow we can talk. Right now I just want you to take me to a hotel and fuck me. Deal?”

Pete knew Gabe would understand, more importantly he knew that there would be no objections. In under an hour he would be face down with the full force of Gabe against his back, face buried deep in a pillow as he imagined Patrick once more. His thoughts would be full of Patrick and almost certainly Gabe knew that too but never called him out on it. When a hand laced into his hair he would imagine it to be a smaller one and when he finally came so hard he almost broke in two it would be because of both Gabe and Patrick at the same time.

In just over an hour he would drift into a peaceful sleep with a warm body curled around him, protecting him from everything including his own thoughts. If he had a nightmare Gabe would hold him until it passed, if he woke up hard and ready for more then he could rely on Gabe to make his toes curl one last time before they had to check out and run back to reality.

The only thing missing from his night and his life was that special kind of love. Sure, he loved and was entirely loved back by Gabe but not in the way that he craved or a way that completed him. He knew that was a feeling he wouldn't find between the familiar reliable rock on one side and the complicated and difficult hard place on the other. At some stage he would have to take the leap and hope that Patrick would be there waiting for him. All he could do was take the gamble and risk falling into the abyss. As soon as he could find a ledge in his sanity wide enough and strong enough to take the weight of the truth inside him Pete knew he was good to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Slide Away by Oasis. Fitting lyric is fitting. [Noel's live version is stunning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pfy0lctPgog) and breaks me every time 
> 
> Please also enjoy some inspirational and relevant images of Pete ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading, all reads, comments and kudos much appreciated <3


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